You Give Me The Sweetest Taboo
by jemapelleelena
Summary: Just when he thought he had moved on from the war, Draco runs into a little one with piercing blue eyes, silver blonde hair, and a mother who was the brightest witch of her age. Will Draco discover truth from the war that may change his life forever? Or will Hermione continue to shut out those from her past life, and keep her life a secret? Rated M for mild adult content.
1. Chapter 1- The sweetest reunions

Hello guys! Quick mention (like it says in my bio) that I am the same account owner for sunshinesabrina, I have just aged a couple years and cannot remember my login, password or email for that account. I simply updated the story (The Sweetest Taboo) that I wrote in middle school, and am planning on continuing it and revamping it on this account. Please feel free to review, and give me some pointers, suggestions, questions to answer, or just any comments you may have. P.s. I do not speak french, however I wanted the characters to, so I took the liberty of using google translate. If you speak french, or know the correct translation, please feel free to let me know, and I will fix it. Thank you! I look forward to this story with you guys! Now, onto Le Toure De France! :)

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Draco was walking Katalina to the snack bar when she came up to him and tugged on his trousers. He looked down to see a small girl, smiling a dazzling smile up to him, holding two different flowers in her hand, her long, curly, platinum hair flowing over her petite shoulders. Her ice blue eyes stared him in the face, and her cheeks held a tinge as pink as the color on her finger nails. Draco looked down in curiosity at the tiny being in front of him, clad in a yellow sun dress, staring up at him with a delicate smile.

"Pardon monsieur, I mean not to interrupt, but I was wondering if you wanted one of my flowers?" A voice so sweet it could make paint ooze off the walls.

Forever the pessimist, Draco asked the first question to come to mind. "For how much?" Of course it was not a monetary issue, he just wanted to know how much this girl was going to try and persuade him to buy this flower from her. And maybe he would.

"You're amusing monsieur! I ask for nothing much. Simply a smile will do you," she sang, and pushed her bangs out of the way of her familiar blue eyes.

"Here Katalina, go figure out what we're going to eat. I'm going to talk to the little one," Draco held out a wad of money to Katalina, and she eagerly went on her way.

"What is your name might I ask?" He asked and wondered why this little girl could speak English and wee bit of french. She didn't look any older than 5.

"Giselle Melrose, but my family calls me Rose," she shrilled and twirled around.

"Giselle eh? That's a decent name…" Draco pondered. "You're not going to ask me my name Giselle?" He questioned, eyeing the knowing look on her face.

"No monsieur I am not. I already know your name," she said with confidence. And then just as confidently, "Have you decided if you want one of my flowers?"

Her blue eyes twinkled with amusement that was well beyond her years, and Draco felt a pang of familiarity in his stomach at the confident look on her face. After measuring her for another second or two, while the little girl rocked back and forth on her feet, Draco raised his head to normal level and searched the crowd for the girl's parents, or at least her mother. Who would leave a 5 year old unattended?

After searching the crowd, and simultaneously rolling his eyes at the sight of Katalina twirling her hair at a tall, dark skinned fellow at the food bar, Draco looked back down at the intelligent little girl.

"Where is your mother Giselle? Didn't she ever teach you not to talk to strangers?"

"Vous tes dr le Monsieur **(You're funny Sir).** But of course she did, but the days get boring if I do not meet new people. My mother always talks to strangers. Dances with them too. Strange men, they dance like my mother. She is around here somewhere," Giselle giggled, and dusted off a bench before sitting down.

While Draco looked at her suspiciously, she began to sing a nursery song in Italian.

"How do you know so many languages? How old are you anyways, 5?" He sat next to her.

"Well Monsieur Malfoy, my mother is a dancer here. We travel a lot, through Italy and France mostly. I was born in Paris, and we visited Italy just last year. But my mother is English, so she taught me your guys' language as well!" She answered, picking small pieces of lint off her lacy socks.

Draco couldn't help but question why this little girl was so intelligent. He had only met a few people in his life that were this smart, but most of them were not in his life anymore, either due to war or just growing up. Mostly the war, though.

"Oh look Monsieur, there is my mother," she pointed to a woman standing across the crowd, with her back to them, looking around frantically. Though she faced the other way, Draco could already tell she was just as beautiful as her daughter. Her long, brown curls hung to her waist, which was accentuated by the gorgeous black velvet dress that clung to her body. Something about that waist.. something about the way her hands laid on her waist that reminded him of…

"Giselle Rose! There you are! Que faites-vous? Combien de fois dois-je vous dire ? Vous ne marchez pas de rabais sur votre propre vous devez attendre que votre mère!"

( **What are you doing? How many times do I have to tell you? You do not walk off on your own you must wait for your mother!)**

Draco couldn't believe his eyes or his ears for that matter as he rested his eyes on none other than Hermione Granger. Damn. She was just as he remembered. Her recognized her satin dress as one of the main dancers downstairs, dancing with some latin guy to a soft waltz. He KNEW something was familiar about the unruliness of Giselle's hair. And better yet, that stubborn, knowing look on her face! How could he not have known sooner?

But Granger did not have blond hair.. maybe the fathers? Ugh. Draco cringed just thinking about it. He couldn't believe it. Hogwarts star top student, the Griffindor princess, Miss Smarty Pants, outcasted Hermione Granger had turned into being one of the most amazing, graceful creatures he had ever laid eyes on. The once frizzy haired girl (who seemed to somehow get that sorted out for her) was now the star dancer of Toure de France's Ballroom Dancing Academy.

Draco had not seen Granger since their last year in Hogwarts. Hermione obviously being the Head Girl (surprise, surprise) and Draco being the Head Boy (no really, surprise), and they had been forced to be around each other most of that year, almost the entire graduation day. Throughout the year he could feel a warmth, beginning of a friendship start to radiate from Hermione, little by little. They were friends by mid-year, and had almost even had a fling one night late in the library, until the next day when war had erupted. Draco had no idea what happened at that point, but from then on Hermione never looked at him the same. Never spoke to him, except with contempt, never looked at him, without clear fear and disdain in her eyes.

"Mother, I'm sorry! He's no harm!" Giselle's voice broke Draco out of his trance and reminded him just exactly what a predicament he was in. Judging by Hermione's cool demeanor, she hadn't seen Draco yet. But give it a moment. The time would come, and as soon as it did, she would be the same old, Hermione. Flushed, blushing, sassy, stubborn Hermione who would never pass up a moment to outsmart you.

Hermione still held her hands on her hips, her brows slightly furrowed, and Draco instantly felt like they were back at Hogwarts. Her stern mommy look sure was a sight though. He had never seen something so amusing.

"Je viens de parler à ce monsieur ici , il a pas de mal je le jure! Je lui ai demandé si il voulait une de mes fleurs…" **(I was just talking to this gentleman here, he's no harm I swear! I was asking him if he wanted one of my flowers)** The little girl argued, pointing at Draco.

"Ugh! What am I to do with you Rose?" She frowned at Giselle, and then looked over to finally meet the eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Mother, you can speak English to him! He knows how to speak it quite well," Giselle smiled, as her mother's eyes stayed glued to Draco's. The mixture of shock, fear, and defiance that Draco saw swirl in Hermione's amber eyes alarmed him, especially when he saw her slowly start to stand in front of Giselle. She quickly knelt down to mutter something in French in Giselle's ear, all the while keeping eye contact with Draco. Giselle reluctantly walked over to the food bar, and walked in without a single knock.

"Quite a daughter you have there Granger. Seems that you've been quite busy these past few years… How have you been?" Draco slowly sat back down on the bench, and offered the seat opposite of him to the brunette still staring wide eyed at him. She looked down at the bench as though it was infested with bugs, and continued standing.

"I've been fine. Working to keep a steady future for Giselle... Why are you here?" She demanded, and just like that, the bossiness he was waiting for slipped back into her voice.

Draco was taken back for a moment, before he quickly recovered and decided that two could play this game. Hermione immediately saw the shift in Draco's eyes. She knew that look too well, and braced herself for a load of sarcasm.

"She's quite the little mini you, wouldn't you say? How old is she? She can't be older than 5, and she already speaks three languages? Though with who her mother is, I am not surprised…" He drawled lazily, feeling a smirk slide slowly into place.

"She's well beyond her years, she can assure you that," she replied curtly, almost dismissively.

When she diverted her eyes from him for a moment, looking back to the food stand where Giselle had gone in, Draco took that moment to stand up and walk until he was directly in front of her. She had grown a bit since Hogwarts, that enough was true. 2 or 3 inches, and as he loomed down on her from his tall 6'3", he took notice of how she had definitely matured into a woman as well.

"Why would you need to ensure her future? Your husband does not take this responsibility?" He leaned forward to look into her honey eyes. The sound of his voice, and the close proximity to his face made Hermione jump back in surprise, and immediately, her eyes narrowed into slits.

"Watch it Malfoy. We must not speak of things that are not. our. business," she frowned as she straightened out her dress.

The change in her demeanor was immediate, and when she looked back up, Hermione was quiet, confident, and slightly guarded.

"Now if you'll excuse me. It's been a treat talking to you Malfoy, but I must go tend to my daughter. Je crois que vous me comprenez, donc avoir une bonne soirée . Au revoir."

 **(I trust you understand me, so have a good evening. Goodbye.)**

Hermione turned to leave, but Draco quickly caught her hand, bringing it up to his lips," How about you join me for dinner at the Clair DeMos? I heard they have a wonderful assortment of finely aged spirits." He kissed the top of her warm hand softly, noting quietly that no ring lay on her ring finger.

Hermione looked taken back, and for a moment he detected an ounce of longing in her eyes, before they shifted again, and a dark brick wall fell in front of the melted honey. Immediately she withdrew her hand, hiding them both behind her back, and she began to take slow steps backwards.

"Draco, cela fait des années . Laissez le passé dans le passé , et s'il vous plaît , ne me contactez pas plus loin."

 **(Draco, it has been years. Leave the past in the past, and please, do not contact me any further.)**

Hermione squared her shoulders and was about to nod her head one last time at Draco, when a tall, blond woman appeared next to Draco, and took his arm.

"Draco, who is this?" Her piercing green eyes looked Hermione up and down judgingly, and the grip she had on Draco's arm tightened.

Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and after plastering a smile on her face, she spoke to Katalina as nicely as she could.

"My name is Hermione," she spoke softly, and when no reaction came from Katalina she added ," Granger, that is."

Immediately Katalina's eyes widened and her mouth formed a small "o" before she gained composure and resumed looking at Hermione from down her nose.

Hermione smirked while beginning to turn around. "Well if you'll excuse me, I have some important matters to attend to. Enjoy the show," she nodded at Katalina, looking back at Draco one last time.

"Malfoy," she simply stated, without a head nod, and as she walked away, Draco watched her in mild curiosity, mild irritation and mild awe. Though he wouldn't admit that.

As he watched Hermione's brown waves sway left to right as she walked back to the snack bar, he felt Katalina's nails dig into his forearm and he scowled at her.

"What?"

She looked at him incredulously and huffed, " Just reminding you who you are here with. Now come along Draco, let's go take our seats."

Draco allowed Katalina to lead him back to their priority seats, and though there was a beautiful blonde haired woman on his arm, dazzling most of the men she passed by, he couldn't help but think about the chocolate haired woman that had just walked away from him. And her silver haired daughter.


	2. Chapter 2- The sweetest green emeralds

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything Harry Potter themed or any idea created by J.K. Rowling. I simply own Giselle and the plot of this story.

 **Author's Note:** Thank you so much to those of you who have already favorited and followed my story! You have no clue how much it means to me, how much it excites me, and how much it fuels my writing. So please, review and let me know how it's going! Also, thank you to the reviewer who commented on my french skills (or lack thereof). I can't help but use a translator as I am not a fluent French speaker and have never taken French classes. But your input is helpful and I appreciate it! Now on with the story:)

"LADIES AND GENTLEMAN, let me introduce to you, our star, our beauty on Legs… Miss Jane Granger!"

As loud tango music began, Draco instantly felt himself become more alert, and as he peered to his side, he noticed Katalina's change in demeanour, and felt her arm snake around his protectively. He sighed.. Women…

Jane, hmm must be her middle name. As he pondered why she would go by her middle name instead of her first, he saw Hermione's long, dainty figure emerge from behind the velvet curtain. And boy was she a sight.. Her long dark brown curls loosely pinned up to her head, and her dress now to her knees, red, and made of the most delicate lace.

Hermione crossed the floor with effortless grace, and the room burst into applause. Feeling a smile develop on his face, Draco and Katalina both clapped politely. Her lips and cheeks now had a distinct pink tinge to them that contrasted her alabaster skin in a way that made her honey eyes that much more piercing.

Her partner - a very familiar man with sandy blonde curls, and a shirt that was unbuttoned all the way down his chest- made his way over to Hermione and grabbed her roughly by the waist. Draco felt himself take a sharp intake of breath, but soon released it cooly when he remembered that someone could be watching him. After the war (and especially with his family's role in the war) it was a common thing to be watched closely.

The couple definitely knew how to play the part well, Draco thought as he felt heat course through his body from nearly watching them. A mix of lust, longing, and envy overwhelmed Draco while he watched the man keep close hold on Hermione's body. It confused him, to say the least.

 _"Roxanne, you don't have to put on that red light. Walk the streets for money, you don't care if it's wrong, or if it is right."_

The floor was covered in passion, jealousy, betrayal, and suspicion as the couple intricately twirled around the room. Hermione's leg lifted up to the man's shoulder, and he dipped her to the floor, his hand making it's way down her leg, his lips trailing behind her ear, and down her neck.

 _"Roxanne, you don't have to wear that dress tonight, Roxanne… you don't have to sell your body to the night."_

Draco watched with interest at how amazing the two of them moved together. He felt the fingers of his left hand clench as they danced, and Draco once again was brought back to the past. A simpler time, before Hermione had cut him off from her.

*flashback*

[ Draco watched as Viktor Krum twirled Hermione around the dance floor of the Yule Ball. She sure was a sight, even back then. Her massive brown curls tentatively pinned to her head, clad in a flowy dress as pink as her lips. He watched from the corner (more like sulked) as she laughed and smiled at Krum as if they were the only two in the room. Soon enough, the song ended and Krum walked away to fetch them a drink, Draco presumed. He then made his move. Gliding across the floor quicker and quieter than he had for anyone in his life, he reached Hermione as she stood on the end of the dance floor with her arms crossed waiting for Krum. Coming up from behind her, he decided he wanted at least one dance with her tonight. "Miss Granger, you look lovely tonight." His voice startled her, and as she whirled around, her brown eyes melted from a frightened chocolate to a soft caramel. Hermione's eyes were always something Draco admired. There was always so much emotion in them. She truly was an open book. A slow smile appeared on her lips, as she took in his attire as well. "You don't look too bad yourself, Draco." Draco felt himself smile, as he extended his hand towards her, and she eyed it cautiously, her eyes flickering back to Viktor who was now socializing with a couple of his Russian classmates. " I know you have a date. I am not trying to steal you away Hermione. I would just like one dance. As friends, that is." His voice assured her, and when she looked back up into his cool pools of silver, her resolve to stay put melted and she gently laid her warm hand in his. ]

As a different man began to sing, Draco was yet again pulled out of his flashback, into reality.

 _"His eyes upon your face… His hand upon your hand.. His lips caress your skin… It's more than I can stand. Feelings I can't fight… you're free to leave me, but just don't deceive me, and please believe me when I say I love you…"_

Watching Hermione willingly put her body into the hands of this mystery man bothered Draco, and he had no clue why. Which only bothered him more. Her hand around his neck, his hands guarding and controlling every move she took.

Across, on the other side of the room was the band, playing guitars, a variety of violins, and a on a stand, dead straight in the middle, was Giselle with a tambourine. The musicians all seemed to be playing by heart, all while watching Giselle with adored smiles on their faces. While she shook the small instrument in her tiny fingers, she sang along to the lyrics and Draco felt himself yet again impressed by the little girl. Draco's eyes slowly shifted back to the girl's mother and he felt the urge to cover the girl's eyes from the passion her mother was exhibiting on the dance floor. The male dancer dipped Hermione and she closed her eyes, and threw her head back in pleasure as one last high pitched note from the singers filled the room.

The room erupted in applause for the couple, and they came up from their sensual pose, the man still very much holding onto Hermione's waist as they bowed. The man's eyes stayed on Hermione the entire time, and Draco suddenly felt very threatened. She - much to Draco's pleasure- wasn't paying as much attention to him as she did to the crowd. Beaming a vibrant smile, she turned in the direction Draco was seated in and Draco felt she was smiling right at him. Though he doubted she was.

Just then, the announcer's voice ran out loud and clear. Draco having been raised around his mother, who spoke French fluently was able to translate what he was saying to Katalina.

"Encore une fois, cela a été notre précieusement Jane Granger , et Cormac McLaggen . Je vous souhaite à tous apprécié votre nuit ici au Tour de France. Il était étonnant que vous ayez tous ici , s'il vous plaît revenir bientôt . La semaine prochaine est notre maison ouverte , la danse appel d'offres . Vous pourriez avoir la chance de danser avec nos merveilleux artistes ici . Bonsoir tout le monde, nous vous revoir bientôt . Au revoir!"

 **(Again, that was our treasured Jane Granger, and Cormac McLaggen. I hope you all enjoyed your night here at Tour De France. It was amazing having you all here, please come again soon. Next week is our open house, dance bidding. You could get the chance to dance with our wonderful artists here. Goodnight everyone, we shall see you all again soon. Goodbye!)**

Cormac McLaggen! That's why the bloke seemed so familiar, he only went to school with them for years. Questions plagued Draco's mind. What happened to Weasley and Potter? Draco was sure Hermione would end up marrying the Weasel...Was McLaggen Giselle's father? Blonde hair.. sure it wasn't as bright blonde but from what he remembers of his time in school it could be a genetic that didn't pass on as strong..hmm..

Taking Katalina's hand in his, Draco led her around the crowd that was hurriedly making their way to all of the couples coming out. Instead of going to congratulate Hermione - which was what Draco longed to do, but realized it would hurt too much to do so- he started for the fancy revolving door. Just as he and Katalina reached it, he was stopped by that familiar feeling of someone pulling on his pants. He looked down and saw a little mass of blonde curls. Letting go of Katalina's arm, he gently knelt down to Giselle who was now smiling.

"Monsieur Malfoy, you're not going to stay for the real party?" She lifted her hand and took Draco's crested necklace from under his shirt to lay on top of his shirt. Draco laughed and shook his head at the girl. She continued to play with his necklace, slowly stroking the green emeralds as though they were familiar to her.

"I'm sorry Giselle, not tonight. I must get Katalina home and I'm afraid I have a long day of work. Plus, I don't think your mum would like that very much. Another time maybe." He began to stand up when he felt the girl doing something to his tuxedo's pocket. Looking down, he saw her tiny fingers placing the yellow daisy from earlier in his pocket. A flower the same color as her dress, and hair.

"Hello there Giselle, I'm Katalina," the taller blonde held out her hand to the little one. Draco could feel the dislike of Katalina oozing off of Giselle, but because she was her mother's daughter, she took it and became all smiles.

Katalina was about to say something else to Giselle when Draco heard someone clear their throat. All three of them looked up to see Hermione, wearing her long black velvet dress again, a white winter cloak draped over her shoulders, down to her ankles. As Hermione's eyes took in the sight of her daughter with Draco, mist covered her eyes. But just as quickly as the mist had appeared, Hermione's eyes became hard and she called the girl to her in Italian and began putting on the little girl's own pink winter cloak.

It hurt Hermione to see Giselle with Draco, though she would never admit it, as it brought up many painful, shameful memories from a horrible time during the war.

It was snowing outside, and she wanted to make sure her daughter and her were warm enough for the carriage. As she was fastening the cloak around Giselle's shoulders, she heard something that surprised her.

"You did an… amazing job out there 'Mione," Draco looked at her, and he noticed that she flinched when he used her nickname. Keeping her head down, Hermione pretended as though she was focusing really hard on fastening Giselle's cloak, when in reality she was trying to stop the tears that were forming in her eyes. She hadn't heard him call her that since before the war. Before everything changed...

*What's wrong with this woman? I just complimented her, and she acts like I insulted her…* he thought as he watched Hermione's feeble attempts to pretend he wasn't standing right there.

With a curt nod directed at Draco, she took Giselle in her arms and handed her over to a nice looking older lady. She murmured something to the woman that caused the woman to shoot Draco a warning look. Then she nodded and quickly took the girl outside to their carriage, followed closely behind by Hermione's dance partner.

As he looked over Hermione's head, Giselle's sleepy face smiled at him, waving slightly.

Draco smiled slightly at the girl he had already grown to adore. As his eyes focused closer to him again, he was surprised by Hermione who was standing right in front of him, looking down at something in her hands. Her head suddenly snapped up to him.

Knowing Katalina didn't speak French, she spoke to him clearly and quietly, with a soft look on her face so that Katalina would think she was saying something nice, not threatening him.

"Il était un geste audacieux de la vôtre pour venir ici Malfoy . Pour avertissement juste , je vais vous dire maintenant de rester loin de nous, et de garder cette famille sale de la vôtre loin ainsi."

 **(It was a bold move of yours to come here Malfoy. For fair warning, I'll tell you now to stay away from us, and to keep that filthy family of yours away as well.)**

Recoiling slightly, Draco felt as if she had just kicked him in the stomach. Taking Draco's hand in hers, she quickly slipped something cold into it, and whispered to him with as much hatred a voice could manage in a whisper, "Soyez sûr de revenir à l'homme ce que vous appelez père. Je suis sûr que le bâtard est manquant il."

 **(Be sure to return this to the man you call father. I'm sure the bastard is missing it.)**

Draco's face froze at the mention of his father, and he caught Hermione's disdainful eyes. His stomach flipped when he saw the anger radiating out of Hermione's eyes, as she frowned at him. But before he could take her hand again, question her, or even get a word out, she turned slowly to Katalina.

"It was a pleasure Katalina, best wishes to you and Malfoy." And before anyone could say anymore, she pulled her hood up, looked around her, and exited. Her steps were quick, almost as if something were following her, and she didn't look back until she got in the white, snow covered carriage outside.

Turning from Katalina's view, he looked down for what seemed to be the billionth time this evening, and slowly opened his hand and found his father's ring. He would have laughed and called Hermione out any other time for her almost believable joke if he hadn't seen the name Lucius Abraxas Malfoy engraved on the silver snake that wrapped around the ring. The eyes of the snake were two large emeralds, and out of the snake's mouth stuck small, sharp fangs.

Moments passed by before Draco shook his head to clear his mind and peered behind him, through the glass revolving door. The last thing he saw was a white hooded face turn towards him, and a pair of honey, tear streaked eyes glare at him.

The ring that was in Draco's hand was confirmed to be his father's. The one he claimed to have lost in the midst of the war… Almost six years ago...


	3. Chapter 3- The sweetest moonlight

**Disclaimer:** You know the bit about me not owning anything J.K. Rowling wrote or created. All I own is Giselle and this plot. :)

 **Author's Note:** Thank you to those who have reviewed already, inquiring about what comes next! Also, thank you to those who have favorited or followed the story. It makes me want to hurry up and get another chapter out. Lol. This chapter will focus a little more on Hermione and Cormac's relationship, and Cormac's relationship as Giselle's father figure.

Btw, I received a review concerned about Hermione supposedly being a prostitute. Fret not, this could not be further from the truth. She is not a prostitute in any way, she is a professional ballroom dancer that works at Le Toure De France, and in Chapter 2 she was dancing a very sensual (very professional) Tango routine. So don't be concerned, my Hermione is not a harlot :)

P.s. In case you were wondering, I got the inspiration for the story's name from a song called "The Sweetest Taboo" from an artist named Sade. Just in case there were those of you that were wondering. Now, on with the story!

Hermione quickly wiped her tears, and entered the carriage, sitting next to Cormac who held a pouting Giselle on his lap. She had asked Fleur to accompany her back to her flat in London, but Fleur had politely declined, saying that she had some business to attend to at her own home.

All of Hermione's belongings of the night: the flowers, the dresses, and the money were to be sent to her flat by tomorrow morning, and Cormac's belongings were as well. They were taking a trip to diner downtown so that they could give Giselle a nice, warm evening dinner before they headed home for the night. Tomorrow would be a long day of dance training, practicing for next week's show, and preparing for the dance auction. Which she was dreading.. something about strange men putting their hands on her brought back extremely unpleasant memories.

For years now she had been passing Cormac off as Giselle's father, and it had worked. He had the blue eyes, the blonde hair, and the dazzling smile. It might not be the exact same shade of blonde, but genetics were a funny thing, and no one she ran into ever questioned it.

After the war, she'd become romantically involved with Cormac, and he had helped her through many, many years of pain the war had brought her. Losing Ron in the midst of the war had almost been the last straw for Hermione's sanity had Cormac not helped her get through it.

After Hermione had gotten word that Ron had been captured at Malfoy Manor by Bellatrix, she had rushed over to the manor without thinking -or asking for Harry's help- and had gotten trapped as well. Seeing the love between Ron and her, Bellatrix had forced Hermione to watch as she tortured Ron. Hermione cried mercilessly and plead for her to stop hurting him, but this only resulted in Bellatrix "ending his pain". The moment the two words came out of Lestrange's lips, Hermione saw her whole life flash before her eyes. Ron's green eyes lost life as he was hit with a bright green light, and he collapsed to the floor in a lifeless heap. Hermione felt the air get knocked out of her, and she as well fell to the floor, defeated.

Reveling in the defeat on Hermione's face, Bellatrix told a group of death eaters to take the filthy girl's body down to the chambers. She claimed that she knew of some that wanted to have their way with her...

"Hermione love?" Shivering, Hermione was taken out of the overwhelming flashback by Cormac's strong yet gentle hand on her arm. He shook her lightly.

She wiped her eyes one last time, and looked up into Cormac's questioning gaze. "Yes?" The word came out slightly choked.

Frowning slightly, he knew something was wrong with her, but didn't want to confront her in front of Giselle. Instead, he just told her that they arrived at the restaurant, and proceeded to hop out of the carriage, Giselle still in his arms. She let out a loud giggle and clung to his broad shoulders, her eyes shut tightly.

"Papa, ne fais pas ça !" **(Father, don't do that!)** She laughed, and Cormac smiled down at the girl, pretending to let her slip from his grasp, but pulling her up again. Another giggle escaped the little girl.

Hermione tightened her cloak around her bare shoulders, and grabbed her purse, again with tears threatening to ruin her make-up for the tenth time that night. Cormac was so wonderful to her and Giselle, and sometimes she wondered what she did to deserve him.

"Hermione love, are you coming?" He called from outside, extending his hand to help her down. His other arm was wrapped around Giselle, as it was cold outside.

Furiously dabbing her eyes one last time, Hermione sniffled, and took his hand. Her dress better not be all wrinkly now, she thought. It was a very expensive dress and it had been a gift from Monsieur Delacroix, the owner of Toure De France. It was truly one of her favorites, as it was her favorite color (black), and made out of a soft velvet. Delacroix had gifted her with it when she was promoted to head dancer 2 years ago, and had told her how grateful he was to have such an intelligent, sweet, beautiful woman working for his company. She had graciously accepted, and had worked hard to uphold Delacroix's high opinion of her.

"Is there something on your mind?" He stopped her right before they got to the door. The only thing he could think of was that stupid bloke Malfoy. Hermione had seemed over the entire ordeal, until tonight's run in with the blonde, and ever since then, she had not seemed to leave the inside of her head.

Realizing how selfish she was being, she sucked it up, placed her hand on Cormac's cheek, and smiled.

"Nothing love, let's go eat. I'm sure Rose is starving here." She took his arm, and patted Giselle -who was tiredly toying with Cormac's tie- on the back.

Reaching the door, the bellhop opened the door, took off his hat and bowed his head at the three of them. Cormac smiled and murmured his thank you at the man, and they entered the warm restaurant.

The room was cozy, lit romantically by unscented candles, and relatively private. Just how Hermione liked it. Piano music played softly by a pianist in the far right corner, and she immediately felt herself relax.

"Pardon Monsieur and Mademoiselles, may I take your coats?" A small redheaded woman with a sweet smile on her face gestured towards their outerwear that was still on their backs while they waited to be seated.

"Oh yes, thank you," Hermione slowly unbuttoned her long, white winter cloak and handed it to the woman, while Cormac followed suit. Little Giselle squirmed out of Cormac's embrace and began to take off her own cloak.

"Et mon manteau trop madame." **(And my coat too madam.)** The little blonde held her coat out and the woman smiled down at her, amusement evident in her eyes.

Hermione cleared her throat and frowned, slightly disapprovingly at her daughter," Rose, do not be rude. Say please."

Giselle looked from her mom to the woman and then up at Cormac who raised his eyebrows expectantly at her, and smiled encouragingly. She looked back up at the woman, all smiles again. "S'il vous plaît." **(Please.)**

Cormac busted a wide grin at Hermione, who in turn laughed herself, and looked at the woman who was now taking her daughter's coat.

"Merci beaucoup , madame." **(Thank you very much, ma'am.)** Hermione smiled, and then took her daughter's hand, following the waiter who was now escorting them to a quiet table relatively close to the piano.

"Mum, are we still going to the library tomorrow?" Giselle asked, her blue eyes beginning to look sleepy.

Hermione immediately felt guilty at the fact that she had already forgotten that Giselle had asked her to take them to the library to pick up a few new books. "Darling, I'm sorry but your father and I have to practice especially hard these next few days for next week's show and event. I'll tell you what though, maybe if we wake up a little early, we can quickly go before practice, and you can read them there at the arena. How does that sound?"

Giselle's face went from disappointed, to skeptical, to ultimately satisfied. Hermione laughed. Her daughter was just like her, an open book.

"That's okay, I suppose." Giselle decided, and began fingering the decorative flower petals on the table.

Dinner was a short affair. Shorter than Hermione had thought it would be, as it had been cut short by the fact that little Giselle couldn't keep her eyes open after her first few bites of clam chowder.

"You seemed mildly distracted today, darling." Cormac commented, walking into their bedroom clad in flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. He held a towel in his hands, and was drying his wet, sandy curls.

After taking a second to admire his shirtless form in the mirror of the vanity Hermione sat at, she responded. "I had an off day I suppose."

Cormac quirked an eyebrow, walking over to Hermione who sat at her small, white vanity, brushing through her long, wild curls. She was wearing the short, blue nightdress he adored so very much, and she eyed him through the mirror. He laid his hands gently on her shoulders, leaning down until his face was level with his in the mirror.

"You can talk to me Hermione, you know that."

Her amber eyes softened slightly, and she leaned into his touch.

"I know Cormac, I know…"

"Did this… have anything to do with Malfoy?" He asked tentatively, measuring her face as he said the other man's name.

Her amber pools suddenly hardened to dark chocolate, and he felt her grow stiff. She slowly turned to face him, setting down her hair brush, and turning the light to her vanity off.

"I was surprised to see him there, is all." But she knew he saw right through her facade. He took her hand and lead her to their bed where he sat her down, and took the spot next to her.

"Hermione, darling. Those people, his family, they cannot hurt you. Or Giselle. They have no idea about what has happened, and they won't ever know. You cannot let his presence bother you anymore. You have moved on, remember?"

Hermione nodded and began to scoot back onto her side of the bed. She seemed to have calmed, but Cormac knew her better than that, and knew that there was still something on her mind. Maybe there was something she wasn't telling him… He wasn't going to push it though.

Reaching forward to turn off the bedroom light, Cormac laid down next to girlfriend, and took her hand in his.

"I know you have a hard time with this Hermione. Anyone that went through what you had to go through would have a hard time. It's only natural, you're human. But you can't let this get to you. You are stronger than that, you know you are. So what if Malfoy showed up tonight? He's from your past, Hermione. Your _past_. And that's where he's supposed to stay."

Hermione felt herself tear up one last time as she listened to Cormac's attempt at encouraging words. He squeezed her hand once more in the dark before turning away from her, and pulling the blanket up over his head to fall asleep like he always did. She rolled over, facing away from him, and stared up at the moon.

She loved Cormac, she truly did. But there were some things that he didn't know, and some things he could never understand. He had been there for her for so long, and he was right, she did seem to be over it, up until tonight. She had accepted what happened in her past, she had accepted what her life was now. She had _loved_ what her life had become. Albeit, there were a couple things she wished she could do, a couple people she wished she could bring back into her life, a couple parts of her she wished she didn't have to keep hidden. But she had accepted it, and had begun to move on from it.

Until those ice blue eyes had met hers. Until those blue orbs, the same silver shade as her daughters, had laid on her, and in an instant, ruined almost 6 years of progress she had made. It wasn't just the terrible memories from the war that Draco reminded her of, but her life before the war. Her friends, her family, her beloved school, her life. Her Draco.

But things were different. They would forever be different, and no amount of longing, no amount of unshed and shed tears would change that. Nothing could change what had happened between the Malfoys and her during the war, nothing could be the same between Draco and her, no matter how much she wished it could be.

As Hermione dozed off that night, staring up at the beautiful grey moon, she was reminded of a pair of silver orbs that haunted her until she fell asleep. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop herself from seeing _him_.


	4. Chapter 4- The sweetest rose gardens

**Disclaimer:** I do not own HP or works or ideas written by JK Rowling. I simply own the plot and Giselle.

 **Authors Note:** Sorry it took so long to get out. I'll admit I was struggling a bit with how to get Draco to approach the problem at hand, so I put off writing. But once I get my classical pandora station on, the words just come right out somehow. Hahaha. I was also incredibly busy with work and my first big biology exam. But this week is more relaxed so expect updates :) Thank you for reading, and please review to let me know what you think! Now, onto the story!

Draco opened the door to Malfoy Manor with a grim look on his face. Thoughts, assumptions, and questions flooded his brain. How the ring his father claimed he lost years ago in the war could be lying in his pocket right now was beyond him. And Hermione's eyes when he last saw her… the despair, hate, anger, shame… it was almost too much to bear. He didn't understand what this all could mean.

Slowly, and without thought, Draco climbed the stairs of the manor and ended up in his room without disturbance. For once. Those house elves sure were useful, and he had learned to appreciate them, but he definitely did not want to be disturbed at a time like this. House elves… something else Hermione had been passionate about. Something else she'd taught him: compassion for the little creatures…

Draco sighed and shrugged off his expensive winter coat, throwing it over the chair of his mahogany desk and kicking off his equally expensive dress shoes. Walking over to his on-suite, Draco stopped when he came face to face with the mirror of his bathroom.

He froze when he looked up and saw what he truly looked like. His eyes were bloodshot from exhaustion, and his skin was slightly blue from standing out in the cold winter for so long. He had stood outside the gates of the manor, debating for a good hour over whether or not he should come home and demand answers from his father, ignore the whole ordeal, or just play it cool. That's not what surprised him about the image staring back at him, though. His eyes were not only bloodshot, but they were defeated, bleak. The eyes that were normally cool, collected, and confident were now tired, depressed, and seemed almost devoid of their normal color.

Undoing his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, he pulled them over his head and threw them on the counter next to him. Leaning down on his hands, he turned on the sink faucet, and splashed warm water on his face. It soothed the dull ache of his eyes, and warmed his skin, enough for him to relax slightly.

Walking back over to his bed, Draco began to undo his trousers, and belt, when he felt something in his pocket, and was yet again reminded of the item that made him instantly feel heavier. Taking it out of his pocket, Draco turned the ring over and over in his hand, and fell back against his bed.

After what felt like an eternity of staring into the shimmery green emeralds, he closed his fist around the stupid jewelry and yanked open his night stand, throwing it in. For some reason Hermione had his father's jewelry, and to say that she was bitter about it would be an understatement.

 _ **"Be sure to return this to the man you call father. I'm sure this sick bastard is missing it."**_

Missing it…*sigh*

Whatever reason it was that she had it, Draco would figure out in the morning. However, for now he needed to rest. He had work later in the afternoon tomorrow, and planned to begin his slow and careful interrogation of his father tomorrow morning.

But for now, rest. Throwing his pants off onto the ground, Draco said a quick spell to turn off his bedroom lights, and laid back into bed. As he turned over to lay on his side, he came face to face with the beautiful grey moon.

Closing his eyes, Draco sighed as images of a younger, happier Hermione swarmed his mind. Whatever had happened between them, Draco was determined to mend. He was determined to figure it out, and to fix it. He had already gone too long without one of his almost best friends; he had already missed too many precious years of her life. A life that now had someone of the utmost importance: a little girl that had stolen a part of his heart the moment she offered him a delicate, yellow daisy.

Breathing deeply, Draco watched the clouds move across the moon. A moon that reminded him so much of the small, silver orbs of a little Rose… a little Rose that had such a familiar gaze.. silver blue orbs…

Draco woke with the sense of more than 2 other presences in the house. A charm had been placed on the manor that allowed the primary owners to have a magical sense of how many people were inside. Normally, Draco only felt his parents', however, this morning he felt 2 other unfamiliar presences, and it made Draco instantly uncomfortable. Visitors, great. Just what he needed at this time.

Who in the world would possibly be visiting his family right now anyway? Father had all but tarnished the Malfoy family name with his involvement with Voldemort in the war, and in turn, even Draco and his mother Narcissa had lost all of their friends and acquaintances. Except Blaise Zabini and his mother. His father had been captured and sentenced to the dementor's kiss, something that Draco was surprised his father had somehow managed to get himself out of.

Understanding what kind of situation the other was in, Blaise had become one of Draco's closest friends at this point, and was even working on pursuing a career at the ministry, as Draco was.

Stretching, and getting out of bed, Draco headed to the bathroom where he jumped in the shower and quickly washed himself. Throwing on a pair of black slacks, and a grey turtleneck long sleeve, Draco emerged from his bedroom, and began descending one side of the manor's double grand staircase.

About halfway down the staircase, Draco heard an annoyingly high pitched laugh coming from the dining room. Feminine… but not his mother's soft laugh... This could not be a good sign…

Upon reaching the rather large dining room of the manor, Draco came upon his parents in their normal seats at the long dining room table, as well as two other blonde heads. They still had their heads facing father at one end of the table, and Draco was unable to see their faces yet.

"Draco, good morning my love!"' His mother exclaimed brightly, and all the other heads in the room looked up from their conversation to find an annoyed, slightly dreadful Draco standing in the doorway.

"Draco, my son, you're finally awake. Your cousins are here to visit us, do come and sit down. Join us for a morning meal." His father's voice was smooth, as it always was whenever they had guests. His pale blue eyes measured Draco's slow, still relatively tired movements.

Draco looked up, finally deciding it would be polite to exchange greetings with the guests, and he was sadly disappointed to find two of his most hated cousins sitting at the table. Cassius and Candus. The daughter and son of one of father's brothers.

Cassius's eyes sized Draco up, as they had since they were kids, and a smirk played around the corner of his lips.

"Hello Draco, it's been a long time, it's nice to finally see you," Cassius said, finally breaking the awkward minute long silence that had taken hold of the room.

"Likewise." Draco had to fight hard to not roll his eyes. He couldn't believe they were here at a time like this. Or that father had allowed them into the house. They were probably only here to rub it in that Lucius was under house arrest and their father was not. Maybe their father had put them up to it.

Cassius's eyebrows rose slightly at Draco's tone of voice, but was unable to say anything more before Candus chimed into the conversation.

"Draco! It's been far too long! Come, sit sit! We _must_ catch up!" Draco didn't like the way Candus was looking at him right now. As though she were a cat, and she had finally caught hold of her mouse...him. He was her _cousin_. It seemed no matter how many times he reminded her, Candus flirtatiously batted her eyelashes at him, and pushed her chest a little too far out.

Gulping silently, Draco felt his smooth facade fall into place. He was out for answers this morning, and he would get them regardless of if his pesty cousins were here or not.

"You came home late last night, son. What was it that held you out so late?" Lucius glanced up at Draco, gracefully sipping from his morning cup of tea. His mother's eyes flickered between the two of them, and even though to the regular onlooker it seemed an innocent enough question, he knew Lucius had something in mind.

"I went out to a show last night, father." Draco sat across from Candus and purposefully kept full eye contact with his Lucius. He smirked.

"A show? What kind of show?" Candus asked, smiling at him from behind her own cup of tea.

"A dance show, in France. I took a date of mine, and the show ended rather late."

Draco noticed how his father's eyes sparked with interest, but soon after died down as he set his cup down. Candus' eyes, however, looked rather disappointed. This pleased him.

"So, Candus, Cassius, what brings you two here today?" Candus' eyes lit up again as Draco spoke to her directly, and Cassius seemed bored with the conversation now.

"Just a requested visit from our father." He seemed put out at this fact, and Draco's smirk widened. He remembered those days, when father was able to dictate and control every little move Draco made. It was hard for him to do that as of late, since his circumstances prevented him from being anywhere but the manor.

His cousins and parents began discussing exactly how Perseus, father's brother had been doing. Draco turned it out, instead focusing on his breakfast plate in front of him, and his plan of attack. First he needed to confirm that the ring was fathers. He wouldn't show it to him, but maybe he could get one of his parents to let slip what the ring looked like. Then, he would bring how the ring came to be lost. If it was important to father (and it was.. family heirlooms were important) then he wouldn't have just simply misplaced it. Either way, he would figure out how he lost it, or the last time he saw it. Then he would bring up Granger… eventually… and how she had come upon the ring.

Great. That sounded like a plan.

Sooner rather than later, his cousins stood up to leave, and he almost rolled his eyes at the disappointed look in Candus' face when he stood, and offered his hand out to her, instead of accepting the hug she was about to attempt to give. Cassius merely bowed his head at Draco, a slight sneer on his face. Draco bowed his head as well, not giving in to the display of a lack of manners.

Once they left, Draco's father turned toward Draco slowly, while closing the manor door.

"You're acting strange son, are you alright?" Draco didn't mistake his father's nosiness for care. He'd grown up with the man. He didn't know how to care.

His mother eyed him carefully as she pretended to rearrange the flower centerpieces on the iron tables next to the entrance.

"I am fine father."

Draco began to walk away, annoyed with his father's questions, when suddenly he stopped, and turned around. If he was going to get answers, being straightforward would not work with his father. Neither would being upset. Draco had to put on his best facade and slowly work the questions out of his father. It was the only way.

He sighed, rubbing his temple, and pushing his hair out of his eyes. "I'm sorry father, everything is fine. I'm just.. exhausted is all. I have been having trouble finding the solution to one of my cases at work, and Zabini hasn't been able to figure it out either." Draco feigned distress, and by the measuring look of his father, and the concerned look of his mother, he knew it was working.

"Perhaps…" his father began, " perhaps I could help you find your solution. You don't start work for another few hours. Why don't you come up to my study, and I'll see what I can do."

Lucius began walking up the staircase to the left before Draco could say anything, but he silently followed the longer haired blonde man up the stairs, sending a small smile to his mom who was still at the entrance eyeing him.

"Draco, don't forget that the ministry is throwing their annual ball in a month or so. I have been helping coordinate it, and you are required to go."

Draco almost swore then and there, but instead he just nodded to his mother, and continued up the stairs. Shite. The ball, he _had_ almost forgotten. When he had remembered it months ago, it was no big deal to him, however, with recent events, it seemed too soon for comfort. Oh how he would love to take Hermione with him… But it seemed as if she had no contact with the wizarding world anymore.. it seemed as if she didn't _want_ contact with the wizarding world. That was another thing he would have to figure out, and fix.

The slam of the door to his father's study broke him out of his trance, and Draco quickly pulled his facade back on, rubbing the back of his neck.

Lucius took his spot behind his desk, and Draco plopped down on the black, velvet chair opposite of him. Black...velvet… it reminded him of a certain dress.

Damn it. He couldn't be thinking like this. It was distracting him from the true matter at hand. Now, what situation to tell his father that he "could not figure out".

Draco went with a complex spell he knew to summon lost objects, and figured that would give him some leeway to ask his father questions. Asking Lucius questions was not only intimidating because Lucius had a distinct way of looking at you that made you feel as though he could see right through you, but also because his father was a very intelligent man, and could probably find the answer to any question in a matter of minutes.

This one, however, seemed to have stumped him, as he sat in the chair behind his desk, and stroked his chin.

"Well let's begin with maybe how we would normally find lost objects. Accio, perhaps?"

His father shook his head," Accio only works when you know where the object is. Not exactly where it is, per say, but you have to have an idea of where it is. That spell doesn't work on lost objects." Father stood, and moved to a bookcase, while Draco prepared for his next move.

"That makes sense I suppose. Have you ever lost anything of importance to you father?" He was careful - very careful- to make sure his tone of voice was innocent, and not accusing.

His father didn't bat an eyelash, as he continued scanning the bookshelf.

"Once or twice, I'm sure. As we all have, at one point."

That didn't help.

"Were you ever able to retrieve the items?"

At this question, Lucius looked up at Draco for a moment and Draco felt sweat beads form on the back of his neck. Soon enough, Lucius turned back to the bookshelf.

"Some of them, yes. Others, unfortunately not." Draco perked up at the direction they were going, and he took this moment to push forward.

"I once had a book for school that I couldn't find. I must have misplaced it somewhere in the castle. What were you unable to find?"

"Important family heirlooms, son. I fail to see how this is relevant to searching for the answer to your problem." His father finally pulled a dark blue book off the shelf and walked back to his desk, setting it down, and taking a seat.

"Because father, I am trying to put it into perspective. I've worked this problem out enough times in my own head, and now I'm getting you to try. Going through this step by step should help us figure out the solution." Draco watched as his father's narrowed eyes moved from Draco's face, down to his mysterious book, and he grunted.

"There might have been a couple family heirlooms that I have been unable to locate. Location spells have worked on some of them, but there is one that I have yet to figure out now that I think about it…"

Draco was careful to not show too much interest. "Oh? Maybe someone else found it, and because it is in their possession, you can no longer locate it, because it is no longer yours?"

"Perhaps Draco... Now if you'll please excuse me, I am going to do some of my own research. I'll let you know if I find anything."

Taking the not so discreet message to get out of his study, Draco bowed his head, and left the room. Casually strolling down to the dining room, he caught sight of his mother out in the gardens, tending to her favorite roses. That woman.. No matter how much older he got, or rather.. she got, she still spent as much time in the garden as she did when he was young.

Stepping out of the french doors, Draco approached Narcissa, who looked up and smiled at him.

"Draco darling, what are you doing out here?" She had a woven basket next to her, with an assortment of different colored flowers in them, and he picked one up and spun it in his fingers. These must be what she was making her centerpieces from.

"I have a few more hours, and wanted to know if you needed some help mother." As he said this, she looked at him curiously from her peripherals and then waved to a table nearby.

"There is a watering can over there darling, that should be easy enough to do I suppose."

Draco wasted no time retrieving the can, and as he poured the water down on the roses, he thought of a way to approach the conversation he wanted to have with his mother and how she might rea-

"If there's something you want to ask me Draco love, do ask."

Shocked, Draco looked at his mother flabbergasted, who was eyeing him from the rather large rose bush.

"I am your mother Draco, I know when something is bothering you. Your father may be oblivious, or may choose to not pay attention, but I know when my son has something on his mind. Besides, in your 25 years of life you have never showed interest in helping me upkeep my garden, and I doubt that you had a change of interest in flowers. Now, what is it that you want to ask me?"

She reached her hand out and lightly tapped his chin, to close his gaping mouth, and smiled softly, yet cautiously.

"Mother, I.. I want to be honest with you…"

He waited, and she kept nodded at him, slowly taking off her red gardening gloves.

"Go on, son."

"Th- There are some things that have come up, rather disturbing things…. I have come across a lost family heirloom that father claimed to have lost," he lowered his voice," and I need to know about it. I ask you to not tell him. Please, mother don't say anything to him."

Narcissa's eyes went from a cautious grey steel, to a tide pool of worried silver instantly, and she took the basket of flowers in her hand, and wrapped her other hand around his arm, leading Draco further from the house, and further from where Lucius might hear them. She immediately knew what this was about, and had dreaded the day when this information might come to light.

Draco glanced back at the manor worriedly, and then curiously down at his mother.

"Shush Draco, you are coming to the west greenhouse to help me re-pot some daffodils."

"Mother…" Draco heard his voice go tight, "do you know what I speak of?"

Walking slightly faster, and keeping her gaze on the floor (which was very much unlike mother), he heard her whisper.

"I have known since the moment that girl was captured in this house…"


End file.
